


peace.

by kazumaasougi



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Spoilers for Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-10-24 10:16:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20704325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kazumaasougi/pseuds/kazumaasougi
Summary: "Yet, despite all the love starved touches and kisses and late night conversations you both shared, it felt as if unspoken words hung heavily around the two of you, yet neither of you dared to speak about it."you're a black eagle student with a hidden past as a foreign mercenary. you're having trouble adjusting to your new academic life til you meet a silver tongued noble from faerghus.





	1. peace.

**Author's Note:**

> it's my first smut fic, so i apologize if it's awkward or clumsy!  
dedicating this fic to my beautiful friends mitri, phy and junie! ♡

Your first weeks at Garreg Mach had been nothing short of tumultuous—even though you excelled in combat, you felt inept as a member of the prestigious Black Eagles house, lead by none other than the imperial princess and heir to the throne, Edelgard von Hresvelg. Only one other girl shared the same “commoner” status as you; a young, beautiful woman named Dorothea Arnault, though her personality was the complete opposite of yours. While she enjoyed frolicking around the academy and garnering the attention of many, you struggled to even hold a conversation with someone from your class. It’s not as if you didn’t want to make friends… You were just unreasonably homesick and unaccustomed to the traditions of Fódlan. 

Although you were Enbarr native, you’d spent most of your life as a traveling mercenary, roaming the distant deserts of Morfis with your group. Your perhaps unconventional childhood had dulled your social skills greatly, but had also given you an edge in the battlefield. As such, many of your classmates respected you greatly, although you were still no match to the likes of Lady Edelgard, Hubert and the professor. 

Once the pleasant layers of the monastery had peeled away and its rotten insides were laid bare after dusk, the unbearable loneliness would sink into your heart, consuming your sleepless nights and keeping you up until the sun had come out once again. No matter how much time had come to pass, the monotonous academic life would never feel familiar to you. That was until you met a peculiar student from another class—a fancy silver tongued noble from the Kingdom named Sylvain. 

You’d initially paid his shallow flirtations no mind as rumors of his skirt chasing antics were prominent throughout the monastery, but your apparent indifference only motivated him to go after you even harder. Only after his tenth attempt at idle conversation did you decide to finally spare him the time of your day and agreed to indulge him in a “date”. As fate would have it, the date quickly ended with lips locking and bodies pressed against each other, right outside your dorm and before you knew it, you were naked on top of him. It’d been so long since you had been intimate with someone else, so the sweet sensation of him inside you left you feeling like you were in eternal bliss. You both knew it didn’t meant anything, and you were seemingly alright with it. In fact, you had even admitted that you found his antics somewhat endearing, if not a little pathetic.

You hadn’t expected a second nor a third date; you’d been perfectly fine leaving things as they were and going your own separate ways. That’s how things usually played out, after all — but somehow, Sylvain managed to worm his way into your heart. Something about his charm drew you towards him, and soon you found yourself becoming so intrigued by him that you’d end up lost in conversation with him til early morning, recounting the day to one another as you two laid naked together in your bed, bodies intertwined with each other. Behind the walls of the monastery dorms, Sylvain would drop the hopeless flirt demeanor, leaving it at the door like a coat he could simply strip off of anytime he wanted. You discovered that he was actually a terribly traumatized and cunning individual beneath his senseless and flat exterior. He confided in you stories of the abuse he endured at the hands of his older brother and his crest hungry family, and his flirtatious behavior started to make more sense to you. 

You began to notice the change in his demeanor whenever it was just the two of you, shifting to a gentle, romantic and even nervous boy who only wanted to treat you with care. Any semblance of his confident and abrasive persona dissipated to nothing around you. You returned the vulnerability as well—opening up to him about your true origins and life as a wandering mercenary and how you were only searching for a purpose in life, which eventually lead you to enroll in the Officers Academy. Yet, despite all the love starved touches and kisses and late night conversations you both shared, it felt as if unspoken words hung heavily around the two of you, yet neither of you dared to speak about it. 

Meeting up with him during nighttime had become tradition for the two of you, alternating between your dorm and his. It was a routine you found yourself looking forward to every day. And tonight was no different from the last—losing yourself in his kisses and tender words at the end of a long day. Whether he really meant it or not was something you were still unsure of, but you’d become so addicted to the feeling of being wanted by someone that a part of you didn’t care if Sylvain was full of shit. Yet something about his touches felt different tonight—you noticed his lips linger on your flesh and his gaze clinging to your form more than usual. 

His hands unbuttoned your shirt as he planted kisses on your neck, exposing your breasts. The curl on his lips deepened as he took in the sight of your bare chest, and before you knew it, his tongue was drawing circles around your nipple, eliciting a small, timid moan from you. His eyes peered at you devilishly, taking in the flush in your face and the smile your lips were trying to bite back. He so loved to watch your reactions as he teased you—knowing full well how crazy you went over it. It’s almost as if he made a game out of how composed you could stay while he drove you over the edge—it’s not as if you had the luxury of being as loud as you possibly could. You’d both be in big trouble if you were caught in his dorm, but the thrill and adrenaline of doing something so shameful in the dead of the night only excited you more. And truth be told, you loved to be relentlessly provoked by him. Goddess forgive you if you ever admitted that aloud though. 

“If only you could see how cute you look right now.” He murmured in an almost velvety purr, his hand inching lower on your hips, landing on your ass before they gripped and pulled you closer against his own erection. “So, so very cute right now.” 

“Stop that, Sylvain.” You exclaimed in embarrassment at his flattery, trying to avoid his gaze as his left hand continued to make his way towards your thighs, the other one occupied with playing and pinching with your nipple. “I already told you I-.. Ah- I don’t like that…“ His grin widened at the small gasp you let slip.

“But I’m not joking. I really do mean it.” He said, gazing up at you with hazy, starving eyes full of adoration. “You really are beautiful…” His voice was soft and almost…timid, even. His gaze on you lingered longer than it should’ve, and you noticed his lips parting slightly as if to say something else—something you really wanted him to say—but nothing came out of him. You frowned. 

“Then prove it.” You whispered into his ears, feeling a tinge of frustration. “Prove it to me, Sylvain. That I’m not just another one of your girlfriends.” Your words came off a little more passionate than you’d intended to, but you didn’t care to hide your emotions anymore. 

“I guess that’s fair.”

Much to your surprise, his hands gripped your hips hard and flipped you over to lie on your back in an instance. He loomed over you, his breathing becoming heavier as one of his hand pulled a strand of your hair back to expose your neck. You couldn’t help but feel at his mercy now as he pinned you between his arms, eyeing you with love and depravation.

“Let me show you just how I feel about you, then.” He licked his lips. “Let me show everyone, in fact.” He muttered before burying his face in your neck, his tongue lapping your neck eagerly. You quickly gasped in a combination of pleasure and surprise, biting your lip in ecstasy as his sunk his teeth against your flesh in hunger. His tongue continued to graze your skin, drawing wet circles all over you before biting you down again like a delicious meal he could feast on for hours, eliciting a string of moans from you. Your small whimpers only made him bolder and more intent on pushing you over the edge, all while marking you as his for everyone to see. 

“Sylvain…” The way you called for him sounded like a plea rolling off your lips, followed by another breathy moan and your body jerking ever so slightly in pure frustration and arousal. He continued to mark you down, relishing the feeling of your skin between his teeth. Just the very thought of everyone knowing you two were together and that he got to be the only one to witness such a sinful sight of you was enough to get him off entirely, but he intended to keep at it til you couldn’t handle it anymore and were begging for him to fuck you. 

He stopped shortly to soothe your sensitive skin and press soft kisses under your jawline. “You know, you have to keep your voice down…” Gods, how he loved to hear your whimpers and your body begging him for more. He eyed his devious ministrations with swelling pride as you rolled your eyes in annoyance at his teasing tone. “Don’t give me that look now. You know you want more. And I’ll be happy to oblige, really.” He lowered his voice to a sensual hum, loosening his grip on your arms and positioning himself in between your thighs. His warm breath against your moist skin, so close to your already wet cunt made you shiver in anticipation. “But I need you to tell me you want it.” 

You let out an exasperated sight. “Really, Sylvain? Of course I do…”

“You do what?” He hummed playfully, nuzzling the apex of your thighs and planting small kisses along. “Be more specific.”

“Gods. Just eat me out. Please.” You groaned.

“Good girl.” 

He was fully intent on reducing you to a pathetic, desperate mess, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when he finally let his tongue dart out to taste you, licking a slow, long stripe along your arousal, and you could feel him smirk as soon as you let out a sharp gasp out of pleasure. You instinctively placed a hand on your mouth as to prevent your moans from echoing off the wooden walls of the dorm, but that task became increasingly more difficult and excruciating as he continued to eat you out with fervor. The way his calloused fingers dug deep into the soft flesh of your thighs was enough to bruise, but you didn’t care—all you wanted to was to relish in the feeling of his warm tongue dipped deep inside you, curling against your inner wall. 

“Oh, gods…Sylvain…” You whimpered, your hand entangled in his messy red hair, clenching and unclenching his locks of hair as each wave of pleasure rolled over you. You pulled him closer to you, head lulled back as you savored the hot flush in your gut growing and spreading outward to your extremities. He pulled back slightly, peering at your expression of pure bliss and hunger. Your eyelids fluttered closed as he inserted two fingers inside you, spreading you open and vigorously stroking the aching spot he was unable to reach with his tongue. His tongue worked your clit in tandem with his fingers at a rapid pace, and it didn’t take long for you to cry out his name as you reached your blissful orgasm.

You loosened your grip on his hair, arms falling to the bed as you steadied your racing heart beats. Still relishing in post orgasm afterglow, you pulled yourself away from his grip, adjusting yourself on his lap once again, feeling his throbbing boner against your cunt. Your hands quickly moved to the hem of his shirt, lifting it up to expose his chest and abs. “It’s my turn now.” 

“Heh. I guess so. It’s not fair for you to have all the fun, after all.” His head lulled back, holding out his breath in anticipation. “Although I could keep pleasuring you until my tongue fell off. That’s how much I like you.”

His eyes widened in surprise as your teeth grazed his throat, feeling an impatient twitch beneath you. Your lips closed around the spot and sucked at the skin aggressively, all while grinding your hips against his to create friction, taking full advantage of the position you were in. Just as you felt his jaw clench, your tongue lapped at the tender spot, soothing the skin as you pressed a more tender kiss to it. The more you grinded yourself against him, the more frantic his breathing became and the more aggressive he dug his nails into your hips, scratching you fervently. 

“Fuck—“ He groaned, feeling himself lose control by the way you teased him with your movements. “You’re so fucking feisty.” 

“I’m not the only one who has to be marked. It works both ways.” You detached your lips from his skin, pulling back to admire the glistening bruise that formed right in the middle of his throat. A small chuckle escaped your lips at the thought of him trying to excuse the big purple mark plastered right there for everyone to see. 

You peered down at his throbbing bulge, unbuckling his pants and pulling them down enough for his cock to spring out. And though you would have loved to continue your devious shenanigans, you were far too starved to have him inside you to continue. There was only so much the both of you could handle, and there was nothing more you wanted right now than to see his cute little face contort in heavenly pleasure while you rode him to he could no longer take it. 

You tightened your grip on him as you lowered your body, slowly taking in his tip and soon the rest of his cock. He stared at your body in pure reverence—being able to see your beautiful, sensual features during the act up close was probably his favorite part of the entire thing—as he began to thrust into you slowly and deliciously. 

“You feel so good.” He purred, punctuating each word with a well-aimed thrust, yet still gentle enough to ensure he didn’t go overboard and accidentally hurt you. “So so good.” His fingers found your chin, bringing it up to meet his eyes. “I want you to look at me. Please.” He murmured softly despite his heavy breathing. Something about the warm and inviting look his eyes held only made your heart beat faster, feeling your entire face flushing deep as you gazed at him, the slow and tormenting thrusts driving you closer and closer to your breaking point. It all felt so ravishing and divine that you were convinced this was just a dream. 

He wasted no time in picking up the pace soon as he heard your responsive moans and the way you pressed yourself flush to his own body, begging him to fuck you harder and faster. You wanted more and more. You wanted him all to yourself. 

The way you convulsed around him, your cunt tightening around him was almost too much to bear. His hands moved to grip your ass, angling you up and reaching a spot within you that he knew made your toes curl. It only become all the more unbearable when one of Sylvain’s hand reached down to tease your clit with slow, tight circles of his fingers, while the other pinched and rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The sudden, overwhelming stimulation was all you needed to topple over that edge. Sylvain quickly covered your mouth with his hand, his eyes never once leaving yours as he watched you writhed against his form, feeling the heat in the pit of your stomach release in muffled cries of his name. It didn’t take him much longer to come long and hard, pulling out to spill his seed on your stomach. 

Pulling himself out of you as he flopped over to the side, he pulled you into his warm embrace as you relished in the afterglow of it your high. He was quick to place kisses to your forehead, hand drawing gentle patterns on the small of your back as he did so. You sighed, burying your head in his neck and taking in his scent. His lovely, intoxicating scent that you could lose yourself in forever. Fuck.

It didn’t hit you until now just how in love you were with him. You closed your eyes, losing yourself in his arms. 

“Hey, (y/n)?” His voice broke the comfortable, lingering silence. You would never grow accustomed to the sound of your actual name from him—he always gave you some sort of overly cheesy and silly pet name that he knew you didn’t like purely to annoy you. 

“Yes?”

“I know this is kind of a weird question but…I was just wondering. What do you plan on doing after the year’s over?” 

You open your eyes, confused, to meet his gaze set on you. “What do you mean?”

“Well you know, it’s already the Pegasus Moon. Time flies. In two months we’ll be graduating and I’m going to have to return to Gautier territory.” 

“I’m not exactly sure yet…Maybe I’ll take up my job as a mercenary again or something. Help folks around or something. Why do you ask?” 

“I want to keep seeing you. I know we’ve lived completely different lives and we both have our own share of burdens to deal with, but…I don’t want to have to say goodbye to this.” He replies, visibly flustered, and a flutter of emotions flashes over you. “I know. I know. That sounds difficult to believe since I-“

You cut him off with a kiss, gently cupping his face with your hands. 

“Then let’s make a promise to each other. No matter what we do, let’s meet each other again after graduation. I’ll go visit you in Faerghus so long as you can provide me with some warmth.”

Sylvain chuckled. “I’ll be happy to provide that and more.” 

For the first time in months, you felt entirely content and safe. You drifted to sleep in his embrace with a soft smile, unbeknownst to you that the next time you’d see him, you would be facing him on opposite sides of the impending war that silently loomed over Fodlan.


	2. remembrance.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a bittersweet reminiscence of cherished memories.

_remembrance. _

_25th of the ethereal moon, year 1180_

Despite being surrounded by cheerful music and the buzzing laughter of your fellow students, you were unable to find peace. Your fingers drummed out a rhythmless pattern above your knee as you drained the last of your beverage, the ice clinking against the glass as it was discarded. The consumption of alcohol was strictly forbidden in monastery grounds, but you figured the staff would be more lenient in their rules today. _A little self indulgence goes a long way_, you thought.

You’d arrived characteristically late to the ball, much to the chagrin of your fellow classmates. It wasn’t as if you had a dance partner eagerly awaiting your arrival—in fact, you were still unsure as to why you’d decided to attend something so pointless in the first place. As a mercenary slow dancing had never been anywhere near your priorities and the very thought of socializing with straightlaced nobles left you emotionally drained. It wasn’t as if any of them would ever glance your way twice—you were a commoner after all, and your months in the academy taught you first hand the disproportionate efforts many nobles took to avoid lowborns like you.You couldn’t help the aversion in your expression as a purple haired Alliance noble passed by you, not even daring to make eye contact with you as if you were a kin of Medusa — you suddenly felt as if the entire world was looking down on you.

You sighed.

The music swelled, a slow and romantic tune wavering from the floor to the ceiling arched high above. It seemed as if everyone had a dance partner except you.

Your eyes faintly registered a familiar flash of red roving throughout the ballroom. There _he_ was, with footsteps so refined and graceful it was if they’d been moving in accordance to the orchestra since the day he was born. A striking contrast to his careless and sometimes crude disposition. You instantly took note of the girl—most likely another noblewoman, judging by the way she carried herself in similar poise—in his company, her hand firmly clasped in his, bodies swaying together in faultless harmony to the waltz of the night. Something about his composure unsettled you - a stiff illusion of warmth and passion. His smile was so hollow you could almost hear it reverberate through him.

The man whose every other word hid a double meaning, an ulterior motive, a sadness buried deep within. His eyes somehow found their way to you; sticking on your form long enough for you to notice. But in typical Sylvain fashion, he wasted no time in marching his way to another woman—completely glossing you over—whispering all the sweet yet meaningless words he had memorized like the palm of his hand into her ears. The woman’s face was flush with giddy embarrassment as he took her hand into his.

Mouth twisting to one side in faint disapproval, you shook your head, unsure of what else you’d expected from him. But like dry swallowing a pill you forced it down in bitter distaste, knowing full well the nature of your relationship with Sylvain. Yet a small part of you wanted a little more; you were tired of the fleeting glimpses into his heart that he occasionally offered you. And the way he caroused around with women who didn’t care about him yet kept you at arms length hurt you more than you cared to admit.

Shame was crawling up your spine like a trailing plant but you tried your best to ignore it, compressing the sensation flat into a mere echo. You weren’t the type of person to sulk around and wallow in pity, hoping for someone to notice you like an attention starved puppy—and quite frankly you’ve had enough of this grandiose display of hypocrisy, his hypocrisy.

You stood up from your seat and left the ballroom wordlessly, unaware of the way his eyes stuck to your every movement like glue.

\- - 

The crisp air of the night sent an unwelcome chill down your spine; you still had to accustom yourself to many things in Fódlan, the cold of the Ethereal Moon being one of them. You found yourself seeking respite from the agitation of the festivities in the academy’s garden; much to your own comfort and relief you didn’t find a single soul there to bother you. With your back resting against a concrete wall, you allowed yourself to relax, taking a deep breath with your arms wrapped protectively around you as to preserve what little heat you could still produce. You were eager to return to your dorms and remove this constrictive dress; you felt like you were suffocating in such a form fitting outfit.

“There you are. I was wondering where you had gone to.” crooned a familiar, whimsical voice. You darted your eyes to Sylvain, a wave of emotions hitting you all at once.

You considered petty silence, but your resolve weakened in a matter of seconds as he pulled you closely in his embrace. Sylvain drew himself in close to you, so close that to any bystanders it would’ve looked as though you were about to kiss. You felt momentarily stunned by the way the moonlight highlighted the features of his face—so ethereal and gallant; if you didn’t know him already you’d believe him to be an angel or a saint sent by the Goddess herself. His coarse words and lies contradicted his soft and youthful face. it was something around the eyes, you thought.

“Stop this, Sylvain.” Despite your reservations, you didn’t pull away from him, merely turning your gaze away from him. “I want to be alone right now.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to warm you up! I don’t want you getting sick or anything.” He hummed tenderly, tightening his grip on you when he noticed you were reluctant to reciprocate his touch. “I couldn’t bear to not see your cute face for a while. I would totally die…But I wouldn’t be opposed to nursing you back to health.”

His words rolled off his tongue so theatrically, like a perverse jest; snapping what little patience you had left from tonight. You pulled him away and slammed him against the wall behind you, pressing his shoulder with your hand to keep him firmly in place. His eyes widened in response, surprised by your sudden aggression.

“What are you—“

“What do **you** think you’re doing? Had enough of your fill of poor ladies throwing themselves at your feet for one night?”

“Please.” He spat back, rolling his eyes at you. “Those girls know exactly what they’re doing. I’m just returning the favor.”

“Like that makes you any better.” Your voice was an indignant hiss. “I don’t care if you have something against them. By all means, keep pretending to like them if it makes you feel better. But don’t treat me like I’m one of them, Sylvain. Don’t jerk me around or you will regret it.”

Your words caught Sylvain momentarily stunned, and you swore you saw a flash of hurt in his eyes; taking him a few seconds to compose himself before scratching the back of his head in confusion.

“Where the hell is this coming from? …Did I do something wrong?”

_Stop spending all your time with girls who don’t care about you_, is what you wanted to say. “I don’t want your fake flattery nor your empty smiles. Do you think I don’t notice? The way you hold all these girls in contempt and how you dumb down your intelligence for others. You’re a terrible liar, Sylvain. You’d be much happier if you’d just drop the act for once.”

“You talk as if that’s the easiest thing in the world.” His eyes grew darker, the edges of his mouth falling into a grim line. He slapped your hand away from his shoulder. “What do you know? You don’t know a damn thing. You had the luxury of growing up without any responsibilities. I didn’t. I’m saddled with burdens I never asked for.” His voice was a dry bark of indignation. “Maybe you’re right. I’d probably be a lot happier if I didn’t act like such a fool all the time. But my future is doomed anyway. So what’s the point? I might as well do what I want when I still can.”

You didn’t let the intensity of his gaze intimidate you, but the sheer bitterness attached to his words unsettled you—yet you couldn’t help but fall in love with the raw candor of his voice. Your body tensed up in response to the way he forcefully pulled you back to him, resting your head against his chest. His scent and his touch—his passionate and addictive touch—sunk into you like a poisoned dagger, intoxicating your mind. You were so weak, oh so weak, to be rendered completely useless just from feeling his body against yours.

“You want the real Sylvain? Well here he is, in the flesh.”

It was impossible to not notice how fast his heart was beating.

Almost as fast as yours.

You peered up to look at his flushed face—you’d never seen him burn with this much embarrassment before.

“Anyway, I didn’t come here to argue with you. I was worried about you. Believe it or not.”

You raised a brow. “And why’s that?”

“You didn’t seem like you were having much fun. So I wanted to check up on you.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle out of bashfulness. “I was a bit out of my element there. This is the first time I’ve attended a ball so…I wasn’t sure what to do with myself.” you muttered, avoiding his gaze sheepishly.

“I guess that makes sense, considering where you came from. You know, I can’t help you but envy you for that.” He sighed, running his fingers through the strands of your hair. “Sometimes I wish we could just forget about everything and run away somewhere. You know, like starting a new life together, faraway from this crest nonsense. Like a mercenary.” His eyes suddenly lit up in excitement, like a puppy who’d just been given a new toy. “Yeah! I think I’d be pretty good at that. It’d be just the two of us, exploring the world and surviving all on our own.”

“The life of a mercenary can get awfully lonely, you know. Speaking from personal experience… You never know when will be the last time you see someone.”_ and I couldn’t bear to live never knowing when I’d see you next._

The size of your own fear and attachment to this fool unbalanced you.

“I guess you’re right.” Despite the more somber tone his voice took, the smile in his face didn’t waver. A smile that reached his ears, for once. The most beautiful smile you had seen from him so far. “But I wouldn’t let you feel lonely. I’d be at your side, no matter what.”

You faltered at the strange, unexpected urge to reach for his hand, strong enough to pass for an instinct. You cupped one side of his face with your hand, pulling him to kiss his lips. it was not a kiss born out of late night passion. It was slow, gentle, melodic. He returned the kiss with the same temperament, pulling back when both you needed to catch your breath.

Silence fell heavy between the two of you; in that moment he deemed words useless, letting his eyes do all the talking necessary.

In them you saw the look of someone with so much to say, yet no courage to speak.

_Then let’s do it. As soon as the year ends, let’s run away together to Brigid or some other place. Let’s leave everything behind and live for ourselves._

\- - ♡ - -

_25th of the ethereal moon, year 1185_

A haze of faded yellow adorned the sky, a grim emblem of the heavy destruction and war that had teared Garreg Mach apart five years ago. Rubble and dust embellished all corners of the academy; what was once a happy place had been quickly reduced to nothingness, trampling all the cherished memories into dirt. The Imperial Army had managed to overthrow the Church of Seiros’ dominance over Garreg Mach, successfully driving them away to Fhirdiad and reclaiming the academy as their base of operations. And you had been at the front lines of said invasion, slashing the necks of those who would dare oppose Edelgard and the professor; no matter if they were acquaintances or even your fellow classmates.

A job was a job. That was the mentality that’d been ingrained in you since your early days as a roaming mercenary. It made the dirty work more bearable.

Yet nothing hurt you quite like having to turn your sword against those you once considered your friends.

The guilt of siding with Empire would tug at your heart and soul every now and then, creeping up on you like a pesky little insect crawling at your skin. You still weren’t sure of what prompted you to aid Edelgard. You’d been given a fair opportunity to abandon her and return to Morfis without any resentment prior to the invasion of Garreg Mach, but your conflicted heart chose her over a life of freedom in the deserts.

It had hardly been a sound decision.

But Edelgard was like slender onyx and ruby, glowing in the crooked line of broken moonlight. A stone faced woman forged in the tyranny of the church’s regime. A woman made of steel, who had seen death, dealt it like a hand of cards, paved her own path to success despite the odds stacked against her. Edelgard didn’t wait for anyone to save her. And neither did you.

You left behind your past as a mercenary, burying your blade and bullions in the coffins of your mind. You now rode a wyvern into battle as an Imperial general, striking down your foes with the grace of a ballerina and the might of a tyrant. The cute little critter suited you just fine.

But there was _one person_ you were unable to leave behind from your mind, despite your most valiant efforts.

You chose to tend to the flowers of the academy’s garden in your free time. You’d never taken an interest in gardening before, but something about the way the flowers bloomed and thrived despite their surroundings inspired strength within you. It was admittedly a bit silly, but you’d taken to the little mundane things and details to keep you going. There was only so much Ferdinand’s motivational speeches could do, especially when they were often betrayed by a look of hopelessness. The Empire was at a pitiful standstill against the Kingdom and the Alliance.

Your selfish side wished for this impasse to prolong as far as it possibly could, if it only meant you could avoid facing your former classmates in battle.

If it meant you could avoid facing _him_.

You had no doubts he’d come to loathe the very sight of you now. The thought alone felt like a stab to the chest, sharp and agonizing.

You picked up a couple of roses from the garden, wrapping them together in a scarlet colored ribbon. You were eager to give them to Dorothea, who would always beam at the sight of her favorite flowers.

In the five years you spent as part of Lady Edelgard’s personal squad, you and the rest of the Black Eagles had become surprisingly close friends—much to your shock, really—finding comfort in each other’s words and smiles. Sometimes their smiles were the only thing that kept you going. And the fact that every day meant facing death in its rawest form made you all the more appreciative that war had yet to pry them from you.

So whenever you could, you’d dedicate yourself to little gifts to boost morale. It felt like the only worthwhile thing you could do that didn’t involve beheading someone. The loss of your beloved professor had been tough on everyone; particularly Edelgard. Your class had never been the same after news that the professor had disappeared broke out.

You gazed wistfully at the garden, once a place where love-stricken couples would confess their undying love for each other had now become a lonesome shell of its former self. Yet despite the thick layer of dirt that covered the withered plants, something compelled you to visit it often. It was almost as if you could imagine him again, taking your hand into his as he pulled you close to him, hearing the beat of his heart so vividly. As if you could imagine him speaking about how he wanted to leave his family behind and become a wandering mercenary with you. As if you could imagine how beautiful he looked with honesty in his face.

But they were nothing but memories, painful and unnecessary memories that you intended to stomp flat into the dirt beneath you. They were a hindrance to you, but a twisted side of yourself loved to revisit them, over and over, breaking your heart every single time.

Perhaps that’s why you kept coming there.

A voice calling out your name in the distance snapped you from your line of thoughts.

You turned towards a breathless Caspar, who had ran all the way from Black Eagles classroom to find you. The flame of excitement in his already energetic eyes told you something big had happened.

The professor had come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story follows the path of crimson flower from now on  
no smut this ch, but expect it in the next one!


	3. remembrance ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a memoir from a broken hearted noble.

_remembrance ii._

The first time Sylvain had seen you, you’d instantly reminded him of a lost kitten who had been thrust into a new and unfamiliar home. Your movements were slow and defensive, as if you were gauging everyone around you, like a silent game of prey—except you were the poor animal waiting to be hunted down by all the wolves around you. He was no expert in reading others, but he was experienced enough to recognize the signs of someone in distress, no matter how subtle they were.

He knew right from the beginning that something about you was different—you were unquestionably _gorgeous_ to him (but then again, so was almost every girl), but your beauty and the way you carried yourself was distinctively striking, almost feline like. Your eyes held an acute edge to them, as if you were always on the lookout for something bad to occur, someone to call you out—from what, he didn’t know—but your small and mellow voice would betray your efforts to conceal your disproportionate fear.

He’d noticed right away how you’d always stutter around nobles.

He remembered the first time he’d spoken to you—in the rare instances he’d go to the training grounds to practice his spearwork instead of carousing around with the other female students, he’d found you there alone. It had been a completely random encounter, truly, but he’d failed to take his eyes off you and your swordsmanship. You were as swift as a sparrow and as graceful as a swan, as if you and your blade were one. Your intensity reminded him of Felix, but your movements were more calculated, drawn out, agile—harboring a lifetime of experience within them.

He knew from the way you held your sword alone that you weren’t from Fódlan. At the very least, not from the Kingdom.

“That’s quite the technique you have there. I haven’t seen that sort of swordsmanship before.”

You’d offered him a strange look, one he hadn’t been able to decipher at the time.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Oh? I don’t recall ever seeing you while I was training. In fact, I don’t really ever see much of you. We should change that, what do you say?”

You’d avoided his offer altogether, merely thanking him with brief, monotone words before returning to your dorm.

It had been a curt encounter, but one that had stuck with him for nights to come.

\- - -

He’d heard from His Highness that the Black Eagle house had been entrusted with clearing out bandits from the outskirts of the monastery. Sending children into battle of life-and-death hardly seemed ethical, but he figured Edelgard and the rest of the Black Eagles would have no trouble disposing of good-for-nothing thieves. Especially since you were in that class, and he figured you must’ve had some prior experience before enrolling into the academy. He couldn’t help but question however; had you really been born in the Empire? You seemed strangely unaccustomed to the traditions of Fódlan.

An arranged meeting with another girl in the monastery grounds brought him to the gentle breeze of the night, but the girl had left him hanging like an idiot. Not the most unusual occurrence for him, really. And not a completely wasteful one either, as he—again, completely coincidental—found you all alone in the dining hall, with nothing but a candle providing mild light as you stared into space, the saddest expression imaginable adorning your features.

He’d never forgive himself if he let the rare opportunity to talk to you slip past him. With a friendly wave and inviting smile, he’d sat opposite to you, silently admiring the delicate way in which the candlelight highlighted the contours of your face.

You’d reacted to his sweet talks and words of empty comfort with much annoyance as you were already aware of his, well… more infamous ministrations with the opposite sex, but there was a small hint of amusement in your smile, which eased him into asking you what had been bothering you on that particular night. You’d confided in him your anxiety about the mission Lady Rhea had given your class; you weren’t scared of a couple of bandits led astray, but something about having to witness your fellow classmates —most of them spoiled and sheltered children—claim their first human life unsettled you terribly. it was like watching someone lose their innocence for the very first time. They were the memories and the faces that would haunt their dreams later on. The way you’d spoken about death—with heavy words and sad, terribly sad eyes—only further intrigued him, but you’d refused to elaborate. He responded with a vaguely eerie comment of his own; something about how bandits were selfish and had taken away the lives of so many struck you as uncharacteristically odd from him, but you hadn’t pried any further for privacy’s sake.

You’d thanked him for the distraction and left, leaving Sylvain with more questions than answers.

\- - -

It had taken him exactly 10 tries in order for you to agree to go out on a date with him.

He hadn’t ceased toying around with other ladies, but you were the only one he felt remotely invested in. Though maybe invested was a bit of an overstatement; he just found you different from all the other girls he was courting. And beautiful. And charming. And interesting. And insightful. And intelligent.

And you didn’t seem remotely interested in his lineage nor his crest.

In fact, the topic had never once been brought up in any of your talks. Every time Sylvain had attempted to steer the conversation to that in order to impress you—and secretly gauge your motivations— you’d change it back to whatever frivolities you’d been discussing before. It’d felt refreshing.

But also _terrifying_.

He’d always clung to his crest and noble status as a weapon to win the favor and interest of those around him. But that didn’t seem to have an effect on you. He knew you despised nobles, yet you had chosen to spend your time with him, a high ranking noble…

The way in which you grabbed him by the collar after he’d taken you out on your first date and kissed him—to his shock as he was normally the one to make the first move—with so much fervor and intensity, right outside your dorm room, left him perplexed beyond measure. But he’d returned the kiss with the same eager and curious spirit, leading you into your room and baring himself to you. He’d never forget the ease in which you’d discarded your usual bashfulness and drove him crazy with your bold touches and lingering lips on his body.

Sylvain had found himself unable to take his mind off you for the weeks to come and unable to keep his hands off you the second you’d knock at his door in the dead night of the night. He’d watched your icy pleasantries slowly melt into honey, his heart swelling with pride every time he’d made you laugh or smile. And by the goddess, did he love your smile.

He’d met tranquil sleep in your warm embrace. There was still so much he didn’t know about you, but his usually paranoid mind eased around you. You had the bite of a demon but the aura of an angel. It was downright seductive.

A particularly sleepless and harrowing night had found its way to him after the events of the Verdant Rain Moon’s mission—your house had been assigned to defeat the disowned son of House Gautier and retrieve the family’s Relic back. You remembered the way Sylvain frantically begged to come along; his amber eyes screaming with sadness and horror as he watched his very own brother transform into an unrecognizable creature made of venom and wickedness. Sylvain’s spear had dealt the final blow to Miklan’s beast form, and within seconds its scales and slime had vanished into nothingness, with only the remains of his human body and the Lance of Ruin left behind.

Despite the hatred in his heart for his brother, Sylvain knew Miklan had been nothing more than a wailing soul lead astray by the corruption of crests and nobles. That’s what he had confided in you as he found refuge once again in your words of comfort, but tears betrayed his feigned composure. In that moment of weakness, he bared his soul naked to you and you returned it with a silent embrace that lasted for hours.

You had become special to him in a manner he had never known before til that night.

It had been during another shared and passionate night together that he came across one of your magic books and he’d immediately taken notice of the foreign language adorning the pages. You confessed you’d come all the way from Morfis despite having been born in Enbarr and that those books had been a parting gift from a group of mages you’d helped in your distant days as a mercenary. Despite your most valiant attempts to hide your sadness, Sylvain saw how homesick you really were and had finally understood why you were so reserved and skittish around others.

He’d spent the next day in the kitchen, working tirelessly on a Blessed Jelly recipe in spite of his mediocre cooking skills. The minute nightfall came and students and staff alike had retreated to their dorms, Sylvain had brought you to the dining hall and presented you with your favorite desert made entirely from Morfis Plums.

That had been the very first time since you’d arrive at the Monastery that you’d allowed yourself to cry in front of someone.

But for once, they were happy tears.

The fact that his family would never accept a relationship with you loomed over him like an impending storm, however. Trusting someone else still felt daunting, and many times he’d unconsciously pull back from you and relapse into his old habits. But you’d always been able to look through him and his act, just like how he’d always been look through you since the very first day he met you.

It only made sense that two people so used to hiding things would be able to read each other so easily and find comfort in each other.

Every time a nightmare would plague his sleep and wake him up in a breathless frenzy, he’d run to your dorm and allow you to hold him as he clung to your form almost fearfully. Oftentimes he’d sob for long minutes, other times he’d merely stay in silence. Looking over him had been a bittersweet experience, for it was when it became most obvious as to how emotionally vulnerable he truly was. The hardships he’d suffered remained stitched deeply into his face, regardless of the false smiles.

In the last few weeks you’d spent together, when you’d begin to stir and peek at him with genuine happiness from beneath your lashes, your hands unfolding to sleepily trace his features—Sylvain knew things were finally starting to change for the better.

Or so he’d thought.

\- -

When news broke out that the Imperial Army had turned their swords against the church during your house mission, Sylvain’s first instinct had been to search relentlessly for you. To make matters worse, the professor had chosen to protect Edelgard and defy the direct orders of the archbishop herself. As such, the entire monastery had been thrust into a burst of chaos and panic. Students and staff had been ordered to prepare for battle as the Imperial Army would arrive at Garreg Mach within a month’s time.

But you were nowhere to be found—neither you nor any of the Black Eagles students—which could’ve only mean that you had joined Edelgard’s rebellion.

Or perhaps you had ran away. You had never seemed like the type of person who’d endorse such violence. There were no stakes in this war for you. That had to be it, right? _Of course it had to be. _

His love riddled minded tried to desperately believe that, because it would’ve have otherwise meant he was destined to cross swords against you. The person he had fallen in love with. 

But he knew better.

He couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at the thought—perhaps it had been divine retribution for all the women he’d egotistically hurt to soothe his own pain. He knew he hadn’t been a good person. He deserved this, he really did. He had lived such a selfish existence that it became easier to resign to his fate than to fight against it. And he had broken and trampled on so many hearts in the wake of his weak will. A feeling of regret had settled in. He'd never told you he loved you like the coward he was, always hiding behind flowery language and theatrics. 

But being with you had made him feel like there was hope. For once.

How cruel of the Goddess to take away his happiness before he could’ve grasped it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're ever feeling sad or lonely just remember that sylvain loves you.
> 
> no more flashback chapters! next chapter will progress the plot. just...expect a lot of death :(
> 
> (i wasn't planning on writing chapter 3 like this, but i was really curious to write things from sylvain's perspective)
> 
> i hope you enjoy, and please leave kudos! ^w^


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